A Life for a Life
by Nimohtar
Summary: [No pairing] OS. A Life Debt must always be repaid....


Title: A Life for a Life

Author: Nimohtar

Pairing: None

Rating: G

Warning: None

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine...

Summary: A Life Debt must always be repaid...

A/N: Okay, this scene popped into my head one night, and I decided to write it down. At the moment, it is just a one-shot, with no background knowledge etc needed, nor does it have any basis on any other story I've written. HOWEVER, if a time comes when my muse wills it, I will endeavour to write an actual story, with an actual plot. Now, onto the story. Enjoy!

-oOo-

The corridors of the dungeon were dark and cold, just like everything else in the castle. Slime coated dull grey stone, and torches provided only the barest flicker of light or warmth, when faced with the evil and dark that permeated the very air. Shadows danced across stone and metal, tormenting images that tricked the mind; draughts swept past like chilling fingers, freezing those unlucky enough to move into their path. The place reeked of malice and despair, dark halls echoing with the cries of the lost or imprisoned.

Lucius Malfoy's steps rang loudly on the stone tiles, as he walked with an easy grace, his hair a silvery-blonde curtain flowing down his back. He wore long black robes of the softest cotton, for even as plain as they must undoubtedly be when a Death Eater, there was no reason not to have the best. His face was an arrogant mask, grey eyes cold, a sneer curling the very corner of his mouth, as if he would rather be anywhere other than here. In any case, it was the truth. Lord Malfoy did not belong, and only a sense of duty and honour brought him here.

The aristocratic blonde strode on, nearing the thick wooden door where two guards leant against the wall on either side. The low-ranking Death Eaters shifted as he approached, and tried to look more alert, nodding their heads respectfully towards him. Lucius hid a grim smile of satisfaction, even as his hand reached into the voluminous pockets of his robes, to palm the poisoned dagger there. He was in luck, for no one would miss the two men here. Their families on the other hand, were another matter, but Lucius paid no mind to that.

With a practised motion he brought the dagger out and thrust it into the stomach of the first guard, whirling around and slashing the throat of the other before they could cry out, even as he heard the thud of a body hitting the floor. He stepped to the side, narrowly missing the spray of blood; instead it splattered across the walls. He watched dispassionately as the two Death Eaters convulsed at his feet, faces turning black in colour, foam falling from their lips to sprinkle the ground, until they died.

He sighed, and sheathed the dagger, returning it to its usual place in his boot. He had already known there was no going back after he had decided what he was going to do, but it was only brought home to him now. Dead men cannot talk, but there were others who had seen him make his way down here, and the poisoned dagger he carried was common knowledge among those in the Dark Order.

Dismissing his thoughts, Lucius stepped easily through the door, feeling the wards brushing over him. It was too late to turn back now; he was committed to his task. It would only take a spell to determine who had entered the room, and besides, it made little difference, for his life was already forfeit.

Lucius passed along the corridor, glancing warily left and right, but heading confidently towards the last door. He stopped in front of it, and looked through the small barred window near the top, and into the dark room within. Like the rest of the dungeon, the room was the same: cold and dark and damp. Lifeless. But this cell was far from empty, and inside he could hear harsh breathing.

Drawing out his wand, Lucius unlocked the door with a murmured spell, and lit the torches in the room on entering. His eyes flicked briefly around the room, taking in the dirty walls, and straw-covered floor, but inevitably his gaze returned to the prisoner.

Harry Potter: the Boy-Who-Lived.

He was asleep, arms raised above his head, shackled to the wall with iron chains. The rest of his body sprawled onto the floor, tucked underneath him to offer some semblance of warmth or comfort. The ugly round glasses had been lost long ago, his wand snapped in two. His clothes were filthy, ripped, covered in mud and sweat, and the dried blood that came from the wounds that dotted his face and bare arms. His breath came in sharp wheezes, as if his chest or lungs were injured, which no doubt they were.

Gone was the fiery Gryffindor that Lucius had known from long ago. Chained in this cell for days, with no food and only enough water to keep him alive, he awaited the Dark Lord's desire. Lucius only hoped that the will to live was still there, or else it was all for nothing.

As he looked down on the pitiable child, it was hard to imagine that this was the wizard who had defied the Dark Lord for years; foiled plans; imprisoned Death Eaters; lived, again and again and again. After all, no one could look a Saviour while broken and bloody, chained and defeated. It seemed that Harry Potter's luck had run out at last.

His eyes roamed freely over the boy, and somehow he knew that he should be feeling something other than compassion: hatred, derision - at the very least contempt! Instead, Lucius was reminded of himself, and even Draco, at that age: all enthusiasm and passion, directed towards the only path that seemed viable, no matter how wrong or right it may be. He saw himself, and wished he did not.

Sweeping his robes out of his way, Lucius crouched down in front of the wizard, pointing his wand at the slender body.

'Ennervate.' He whispered.

He watched as closed eyes fluttered open, and a small moan of pain left the parted red lips. The boy looked blearily around, and struggled to raise himself slightly, and then Lucius was caught in by intense green eyes. He remembered when that same gaze had looked upon him in cold fury, and a harsh voice had uttered the phrase the plagued him now:

"_The only reason I'm letting you live, is because of your son._"

And now, it came to this: three months after he and the boy crossed paths, he was repaying the debt.

'Mr. Potter?'

Potter stared up at him, wincing when he tried to move. Lucius was pleased to note that he seemed lucid enough.

'Malfoy.' Potter croaked.

'I want you to be quiet, and listen to me.'

Potter nodded slightly, though his eyes were wary, resignation in their depths.

'Potter, I am going to release you now, and then I'll need you to do exactly as I say. Do you understand?'

A small frown appeared between Potter's eyes, but he nodded nonetheless.

Good. It would make Lucius' task easier if he had the boy's co-operation.

Leaning forward, Lucius used his wand to unlock the manacles, and Potter's hands dropped sharply into his lap. He gasped as blood rushed into numb limbs, and rubbed his damaged wrists. He made no attempt at sudden heroics, and for that Lucius was grateful. Perhaps the boy had some kind of survival instinct, in amongst the Gryffindor stubbornness and bravery?

'Now, let's get out of here.' Lucius muttered, rising to his feet.

'Why are you helping me?' Potter asked quietly, confusion on his face.

'A Life Debt, Mr. Potter, must always be repaid.' Lucius answered calmly. 'You spared me, and in return, I shall save you.'

Potter contemplated him silently for a moment, then finally sighed, some of the tension leaving his stiffened frame. Lucius let out the breath he had been holding, the warmth of satisfaction spreading through his body.

'Can you walk?'

Potter shook his head. 'My leg is broken.'

Nodding, Lucius put away his wand, and bending over the raven-haired boy, he gently picked him up to cradle him against his broad chest. Potter's face paled dramatically, and he gritted his teeth, but it was the only indication of the pain he must have felt. His buried his head against Lucius' shoulder, and fisted his hand into the black robes.

'Good boy.' Lucius whispered.

The blond Death Eater turned away from the room and finding the coast clear when he glanced through the door, he stepped out and swiftly started making his way down the corridor.

Tonight was the night the Dark Lord had chosen for Harry Potter to die, and his followers were gathering for the honour of witnessing the defeat of his enemy. Soon, Harry Potter would be sent for, and unless Lucius got them both safely out of the castle before then, they would both lose their lives tonight.

His steps beat a rapid staccato as he walked, and a trail of sweat slithered down his spine, but in spite of his tense posture his grip on the boy in his arms stayed gentle as he tried to lessen movement that would cause more pain.

Lucius was nearing the small and mostly unknown door that would lead out into the castle gardens, and then safety, when he turned the corner and was brought to an abrupt halt in order to avoid crashing into the person walking towards him. He froze, and so too did the other Death Eater.

Startled black eyes swept quickly over him and the boy in his arms, before a guarded expression appeared once more, even as the pale face remained impassive.

Lucius stayed silent, waiting, face just as guarded. Inside his mind was awhirl with frantic thoughts that he fought to calm. It would do not good for him to panic now, this far. He didn't know how he would be able to reach for his wand with Potter in his arms, and a quick glance down showed that the boy would be no help; he was unconscious.

His grey eyes locked once more with black, and after a brief, tension-filled moment, Severus stepped to the side.

'Take him to Hogwarts; they'll care for him there.'

Lucius shot the Potions Master a hard look.

'So you were the traitor all along.' Lucius breathed, realisation dawning rapidly.

Severus' mouth curled into a smirk, and a mocking glint entered his eyes.

'And now, so are you.' He drawled.

Lucius hid a sigh. After so long, he had learnt the identity of the spy within the Death Eater ranks, but at a time too late for it to be worth anything. He would not be able to return to the Dark Lord now...and Severus knew it. He had helped Potter escape, and that would not be forgiven.

Lucius nodded once, and hurried passed the Death Eater Spy, reaching the exit without any more difficulty, opening it and hastening through. He looked around, but the small courtyard was empty. He kept to the shadows as he made his way towards the far gate that marked the end of the anti-apparition wards.

Every noise was the sound of approaching footsteps; every rustle of a tree was the whisper of a spell. Cool breezes lifted his silver hair, and he knew that once glance through a single window, and he would be seen.

With a sigh he reached the gate, unlocked as he had left it earlier, and he used a shoulder to open it. Stepping through, he found himself on an open grassy plain, a trickling river just metres from where he stood.

'A Life for a Life,' he murmured. 'My debt is repaid.'

Smiling in satisfaction, Lucius hitched the boy in his arms further against him, and apparated away.

-fin-

Words: 1,909

22.08.06


End file.
